Magnificent, wonderful Azerbaijan,
Your history has been immortalized!
My lovely black garden, my Karabagh,
Where Khari Bulbul flowers gorgeously rise,
And nightingales sing very beautiful songs,
And melodies of mugham caress the soul!
Natavan masterfully wrote about you.
Your beauty is perfect; your beauty is true!
The Caucasus landscape—the country of mountains …
Everyone all the time tried you to capture!
The Arabs, the Turks, and the Persians, the Russes,
Wanted to dominate, feeling the rapture.
Leaving a mark time’s forever been gone,
But you became stronger and you were reborn!
Mysterious country of Azerbaijan!
The carpet was given to me by Sheki Khan …
Woven silk pattern and colorful ornament,
Orient, fabulous, light as the firmament.
He threw on me gently a kelagayi,
“Now fly away!” in a flash he cried to me.
The way to Baku is with fairy tales paved,
I’ll be watching on the great Caspian waves.
Then standing in front of the ancient fortress,
I’m suddenly crying now: “Faytonchu!”
Four horses are standing here in a few moments,
And phaeton’s carrying me like the wind to
The places of old Baku and narrow streets,
The Shirvanshahs’ Palace, where was the harem,
Where Khan had been ruling for so many years
And writing the dastan Dede Korkut pages.
I’ll walk in the governor’s garden with pleasure,
I’ll pick up tea roses with fragrance inspired.
The name of the place, as historical treasure,
Reminds me of the time of the Russian empire.
The place where the East and the West always meet,
The beauty that every man always admires:
Splendid Baku, the City of Winds,
And Azerbaijan, the Land of Fire!